


The Angel's Wing

by Hyde_Writes



Series: The Angel's Wing Truck Stop [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Eventual Happy Ending, Fluff, M/M, No Underage Sex, Older Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-19
Updated: 2016-08-25
Packaged: 2018-08-09 17:12:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7810369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hyde_Writes/pseuds/Hyde_Writes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's only one truck stop in all of the United States that Dean insists on stopping at, The Angel's Wing. He loves the place despite the lumpy beds, the crappy food, and horrible pie. It's only a coincidence that a completely handsome and amazing guy named Castiel lives there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Welcome to the Angel's Wing Motel

**Author's Note:**

> There is no underage sex or anything creepy like that, only fluff.... until Dean is of age. ;)

           “Dad, please. I really have to take a shower,” Dean looked into the rear view mirror at an exhausted looking Sam. “and Sammy hasn’t slept in a real bed since New Mexico. We need to stop.”

            Dean never begged his dad for anything on the grounds that he was a man and, as John put it, “men do without.” He was nineteen and a man that could do without a lot of things. This case was different though. The truck stop on the outskirts of Corning, California was the one and only thing that Dean had ever asked for. The bargaining usually started when they were about two hours out. Dean would start to get twitchy and annoying and John would roll his eyes with a sigh and an irritated side glance in Dean’s direction.

            “Why do you always want to go to that truck stop anyway? The beds are shit and lumpy.” John adjusted in his seat and looked at Dean.

            “Food sucks too.” Sam added sleepily from the back seat.

            Dean had to admit, they were right, the beds were shit and were more like sleeping on a bag of rocks than a mattress. The food at the diner next door wasn’t the worst, but the pie was awful, there was the owner’s house behind the inn not far away that looked creepy and ominous and, to top it off, there was never enough water pressure in the shower to fully clean yourself, but Dean didn’t care. He shrugged a shoulder at his dad and looked at the dashboard.

            “I don’t know. I like it there.” Dean’s voice was quiet; almost lost to the road noise.

The cab went silent for a millisecond before Sam’s voice boomed from the backseat.

            “Dean’s got a girlfriend! Dean’s got a girlfriend!” Forgetting his fatigue, he was bouncing up and down and laughing as Dean whipped an empty water bottle at his face. “Ow!”

            “Shut it, Sammy or I’ll start forging love letters to your ‘pen pal.’” Dean smirked at Sammy’s stunned silence. He did his best to impersonate Sam’s cracking fifteen-year-old voice. “Oh, Jess, I’m so in love with you! I can’t wait till we k— ouch!” Dean flinched away from the driver’s side and held a hand to his temple where John had flicked him.

            “Stop it you two. Sam quit it with the yelling. Dean, no blackmailing your brother.” John’s voice boomed in the cab with a finality that silenced the boys instantly. They responded in unison with a “yes sir” and rode quietly the rest of the way.

            Thirty minutes out, Dean resigned himself to the fact that they weren’t going to stop that night, but when the signs for the truck stop exit came up, John yawned and hit his turn signal. Dean’s heart fluttered in his chest and he wanted to whoop in celebration, but stayed silent in John’s presence. Instead, he pretended to doze.

            Dean watched through cracked eyelids as they pulled into the parking lot of the motel. When they arrived the sun was low and Dean guessed it was about six o’ clock. As they came to a halt, Dean kept his eyes closed until John’s big hand shoved roughly into his shoulder.

            “Dean, wake up and get the bags. I’ll check in.” John slammed the door and left dean in silence with his pounding heart.

            Dean sprung out of the car excitedly as John left for the front office and pulled the bags from the trunk. Sam eyed him suspiciously, but said nothing, helping Dean with the heavier bags. Dean guessed the lack of sleep hand knocked the bitch out of him.

            The beds were just as lumpy as Dean remembered and, when they went to the diner that night, the food sucked just as bad too. Dean didn’t care, though. All he cared about was the fact that he was noticed; that he could see a pair of blue eyes staring at him through the open hatch of the kitchen, that later he’d be carding his fingers through messy black hair and – maybe with some luck – pressing his lips against the plump pink lips that smiled softly at him.

            He’d been planning it—replaying it in his mind—since he was fifteen; since they first stopped in at the Angel’s wing truck stop four years before.

* * *

            Sam was eleven and had a cold and John made Dean go to the front desk to ask for some cold medicine. He backed his way through the door of the front office, listening as John named off the medicine they needed. With the door swinging shut, Dean spun on his heal and looked up at the front desk.

            That’s when he first laid his eyes on the most brilliantly beautiful person he’d ever seen. He was a boy, probably about Dean’s age, standing at the front counter with a crooked tie and an oversized trench coat hanging loosely on his body. Tufts of black hair stood off his head at every angle, longer than Dean’s clean cut hair, but shorter – way shorter – than Sam’s unruly mop. He was lean and a little shorter than Dean, but looked bulky from the trench coat that his arms swam in. His lips were plum and pink and a little chapped. Dean’s stomach churned just from the sight of the boy, but his heart almost burst out his chest when the boy looked up with stunning electric blue eyes.

            “Oh, hello. Welcome to the Angel’s Wing Motel. How can I help you?” The boy’s lips turned up into a crooked smile as Dean struggled not to choke on his own tongue. The boy’s raspy, deep voice rang through Dean’s ears, stopping any words from forming in his mind. The silence stretched on, past half a second to a few agonizing seconds. The boys head tilted to the side as he trained his piercing blue stare on Dean’s face. “Are you okay?”

            Dean shook his head and cleared his throat, chuckling nervously. He clenched his fists and willed his heart to stop pounding so hard. “Uh, yeah. Hey, I need some – do you have any, um --?” Dean had forgotten the words as the boy listened intently, waiting for his request. “Uh,” he gestured to make the shape of a pill bottle.

            “Water?” The boy offered.

            “No. Um, for a cold.” He chuckled in an attempt to hide his embarrassment. Dean felt as stupid as he knew he sounded and the heat of a blush rushed up to his cheeks. He guessed the boy thought he was some uneducated country bumpkin.

            “Oh, medicine?” The boy’s smile was a billion times better than Dean had expected it to be and lost his thoughts again.

            He nodded an affirmative. After a beat, he rasped out a “yes, please.”

            The boy walked over to the door behind the desk and peered into the first aid kit that dean assumed was mounted on the other side of the wall. The boy reached an arm up and held onto the top of the door frame, making his baggy sleeve sag to his elbow and expose soft cream colored skin. Dean started at the exposed skin, noting the pattern of faint freckles that peppered his wrist. He licked his lips and bit down hard on his cheek to keep his thoughts on his task. It worked until the boy popped his head around the wall, cheeks flushed pink.

            “Uh, we have a lot of different kinds of medicine. Maybe you should come show me which kind you need.” The boy walked to the counter and lifted the hatched entry way for Dean. As he walked slowly past the boy, the aroma of fall leaves and pine soap wafted into Dean’s nose. His knees nearly buckled at the hot pleasure that shot to his abdomen.

            Dean pointed to the children’s Tylenol in the first aid kit that was more of a medicine cabinet. “The one with the red label, there.” He remembered the name John had yelled at him from the trunk of the Impala and nodded when he re-read the label. The boy’s face flashed with inquisition, but quickly went back to a slight smile as he took the bottle from the shelf. Dean blushed, knowing the look well. “’s for my little brother.”

            The boy’s eyes shot to Dean’s, then quickly away as a blush and a smile spread across his face. He looked abashed, but when his eyes shot back to Dean’s, they were serious but soft. Dean’s mind offered the word ‘admiring’, but pushed it away quickly. “That’s nice that you take such good care of your brother.”

            “Uh, thanks.” Dean blushed and his fingers brushed against the boys as he took the bottle of medicine that he’d been offered. An electric pulse shot up Dean’s arm, through his heart, then down to the pit of his stomach. From then, he knew he was hooked.

            That night he lay awake next to a coughing Sam and thought about the boy’s blue eyes until daylight.


	2. In Passing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Like a moth to a flame, Dean can't help himself from getting back to those glowing blue eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is dedicated to my first commenter on AO3, ktdog1! I'm so glad you're already hooked! There's more to come, but this is the fluffiest of the chapters... I think. Your comment made my day and I hope this dedication makes yours. 
> 
> *Again, there's no creepy stuff happening while they are underage. As a note this story really jumps around time-wise, so hopefully I don't confuse anyone.

             John went back through the same route after their hunt and Dean begged for the first thing he’d ever begged for in his life. He knew, to anybody else, it came off as just a casual suggestion to stay the night there so they could finish the rest of their trip in one go, but in John’s eyes it was begging. Still, with a cough and a yawn from Sam in the back seat, John pulled off the interstate.

            Dean found the kid back at the front desk when he’d offered to check them in. John had given him an extremely suspicious look, but handed him the newly stolen credit card, warning him not to fuck it up. The boy smiled at Dean and his heart melted all over again.

            “Uh, hi I’d like to check in.” Dean’s mouth was dry as he swallowed the excess drool in his mouth and handed the kid John’s fraudulent credit card. The boy eyed the credit card suspiciously and smirked at Dean. “Oh, its—uh, my dad’s card.”

            The boy nodded. “Okay, did you want one or two beds?”

            “Uh, two.”

            “Okay,” the boy punched in some numbers on the computer in front of him, his eyes piercing blue beams at the screen. “How many nights?”

            “Just tonight – or uh, one.” Dean spread a smile across his face to mask his awkwardness. He had gotten flirting with girls down to a science, but even talking to an attractive boy left Dean red and flustered; floundering to keep his thoughts in order.

            “Aw, only one?” The boy looked into Dean’s eyes before quickly shooting his gaze back at the computer screen. Dean’s face flushed brightly and the tips of his ears felt hot. He knew the kid was supposed to talk up the customers, but it made his heart skip a beat.

            He stayed silent and flushed pink as the boy typed quietly on the computer. Dean’s eyes traced the outline of the boy’s jaw and down his neck to the Adam’s apple that bobbed when the kid swallowed. He was entranced by the boy’s visage and even more so by his quirky mannerisms. From the way he’d tilted his head to the stoic, rigid way he stood. Dean wondered what the boy did for fun or why he was so quiet and studious. He wondered if the boy held secrets from his family the same as Dean. He yearned to know what those secrets were. Theories of what those secrets could be and the way the boy would share them with Dean swirled through his head, but his thoughts came to a halt when the boy spoke.

            “I – uh, I apologize. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I just meant— It’s nice to have someone my age around besides my siblings.” The boy’s cheeks flushed bright red, mirroring Dean’s. He looked back at the computer, avoiding Dean’s eyes, and typed a little quicker.

            Dean cleared his throat. “You, uh, you live here?” He jutted his head toward the big ramshackle house and quickly regretted the question when the boy’s dark brows drew together.

            “Yeah,” He scratched the back of his neck, still looking down. “My family owns the Angel’s wing.” Dean guessed that – once upon a time – the boy would’ve declared that proudly, but now it came out tired and bitter. He licked his lips and nodded in understanding.

            “Cool, cool. Don’t get out much, then?” From what he saw coming into the town, there wasn’t much of anything and way out on the edge of town, where the truck stop sat, had even less of anything. Dean would call it barren, in fact. He knew the kid would obviously have to go to school and the store, but being so isolated with his family would be torture. Dean knew how he felt, he was trapped too, tethered to the Impala, Sam and John, caged in ratty motel rooms for most of his life.

            The boy lowered his chin to his chest as he turned to retrieve the keys from the wall behind him. When he turned back, he had a sad smile on his face and handed Dean the key to the room. Their hands brushed and Dean’s heart skipped a beat again. The boy dropped his hand to the desk as quick as it happened and swallowed loudly.

            “Like I said,” he passed his hand across his beautifully plump chapped lips. “we don’t get may people my age out here.”

            Dean’s heart jumped at the words, wanting to make the sadness in the boy’s blue eyes go away. His limbs went numb and he swallowed the cold fear that was prickling its way up his throat. He thought “now or never” and tapped his knuckles on the counter with a charming smirk on his lips.

            “Well, if that’s how it is – I guess even one night would be fun. If you wanna hang… or something.” The words came out sounding more like a question than anything. He cringed at the fact, but he pushed away his fear. The boy smile was white hot as he turned his brilliant blue gaze to Dean, making his heart burst into flames. He couldn’t help but smile back, just as brightly.

            “I’m Dean,” He left out the last name, unable to remember the last name written on John’s fake credit card.

            The boy’s face softened and he smirked happily. “Nice to meet you, Dean. I’m Castiel.”

            Dean was about to ask about the strange name, when John burst through the door unceremoniously, apparently done waiting for Dean to tell them the room number. His chest heaved as he looked from the small, black-haired boy to Dean with a question in his eyes.

            “Come on, Dean. What’s taking so long? Sammy’s half frozen and coughing out there.” Dean gaped at John and turned away quickly, not wanting him to see the blush across his face. He pushed the key to his dad quickly, avoiding his gaze adamantly and faced the front desk again.

            “I was just talking to Cas,” He couldn’t remember the rest of the boy’s name and looked at him with a reassuring smirk. “We were going to hang out tonight at --.” Dean shot him a questioning look. There was a split second of silence, then understanding flooded Cas' features.

            “Oh, seven. I’m off at seven.” Cas looked up then away from John’s gaze quickly, a blush crossing the bridge of his nose. Dean was mortified. John’s presence put even the most hardened hunters on edge, he couldn’t imagine what his scalding look was doing to the guy.

           John bristled when Dean looked at him with a pleading look. “Dean you know the rules. Now get out here and get the bags.” John left it at that and stalked out of the office without a look in Cas’ direction. Dean glared at the door as it slammed shut.

            Cas’ face looked confused with his eyebrows drawn together, blue eyes troubled. “What’re the rules?” He tilted his head to the side and Dean swore under his breath.

            “Sorry Cas. Not allowed to hang out with strangers.” He slipped out the door and let it close with a gentle click.

            At two in the morning, Dean snuck out of the motel room only after he had made sure John had passed out completely. The smell of whiskey permeated the air around John’s bed as Dean tiptoed quietly past.

            Approaching the house, Dean didn’t know how he’d be able to find Cas, but when he peaked into the only lit window on the first floor of the house, he saw him sitting on his bed. He sat upright in a stiff posture, reading a large book. He had on a baggy t-shirt that hung off one of his slight shoulders and a pair of baggy flannel pajama pants. Dean took a shaky breath and tapped on the window gently. He waved sheepishly when Cas whipped his head around.

            “Hey Cas.” Dean’s voice shook a bit when Cas pushed open the window. He couldn’t help but lick his lips when he saw the pale skin of his hips that peaked over the elastic of his pajama pants when he stretched up to move the curtains.

            “Hello Dean.” Cas’ voice was rougher than Dean had remembered. He guessed it was from the tiredness that showed in the bags under his half lidded eyes. Just the same, Dean’s stomach bubbled with heat at the sound of his name on Cas’ lips.

            “Still need some company?” Dean flashed a smile at him but a worried look passed his face. He looked over his shoulder at his bedroom door, then back at Dean.

            “One sec.” Cas strode across the room and bolted the lock that sat half under a poster of an artist’s rendition of an angel’s back. Dean noted that the white wings hung rigidly over the shape of a muscular man’s back. Or, he would have noticed, if Cas’ pajama bottoms didn’t hug his butt perfectly.

            Cas spun on his heel and strode back to the window. “There. Um, I hope you don’t mind coming in the window, bec --.”

            “It’s cool dude.” Dean held up his hand in a “stop” gesture. “You don’t think this is my first time sneaking into someone’s window, do you?” He gave Cas an incredulous look with an eyebrow raised. It wasn’t his first time sneaking into a window, but it was the first time someone was sneaking him into their room. His palms were sweaty, but he slipped into the window with practiced moves, quiet as a cat.

            It turned out that Dean wasn’t Cas’ age at all. He was actually the same age as his little sister, Anna. Dean’s cheeks burned when he learned just how much older Cas was. Where Dean was a fresh fifteen-year-old, Cas was on the fuzzy edges of eighteen.

            “Really? It’s in a couple of months?” Dean laughed quietly with his legs crossed in front of him, facing Cas on his bed.

            Cas nodded with a smile on his perfect lips. “Yep. The big one eight.” He looked down at his hands, a troubled line forming between his furrowed brows. Dean couldn’t stop his hand from reaching out. Gently, he poked the crease between his brows.

“That’s your tell. When you’re worried.” He let his hand brush down the side of his cheek, fingers gliding over fresh stubble. Dean’s stomach burned with nerves, unable to stop himself from touching Cas’ pink skin.

            “Talk to me, Cas.” Dean’s voice was barely audible above his pounding heart. Cas’ eyes went wide, surprised at the contact, but the initial surprise waned and he leaned into Dean’s touch with a sigh.

            “My brother, Michael.” He cleared his throat and looked deeply into Dean’s eyes. “He’s the oldest – takes care of us. I can tell he thinks I’m going to up and leave, like my dad did to us after mom –.” He trailed off and looked away shyly. Instinctively, Dean’s hand fell from Cas’ cheek and trailed down to the top of his hand. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Dean recalled that it was the same form of comfort that his dad gave to distraught witnesses.

            “Are you, you know, thinking about it?” Cas pushed his hand forward, tangling their fingers together. Dean licked his lips and tried to steady his breath. Reminding himself that he was being a loser for getting so excited over holding someone’s freaking hand was the only thing that kept the white-hot pressure in his stomach from going lower. Cas was deep in thought as he stared blankly into his bedroom. Dean studied his features in greater detail, waiting for him to come out of his thoughts. His stare slid over to Dean’s face and he smiled at him with a blush.

            “I don’t think I’ve ever thought about it.” He took a breath and squeezed Dean’s fingers. “I’ve always been too busy trying to help Michael keep this place running – we all have.”

            They talked, fingers intertwined, until Dean heard stirring in the house and glanced at the clock. It was six in the morning and the first hints of sun were lighting the bottom edge of the window. Dean knew that his dad was awake and searching for him by now, but he didn’t care.          

            It was the most intimate conversation that Dean could remember having with someone, even his dad or Sammy. He felt ten times lighter, being able to tell Cas everything he wasn’t able to tell his family: his feelings about losing his mother, the fact that he was bisexual, that he loved the way fresh car wax smelled. Cas shared too; about his family, his hope that he would one day be able to live in the middle of the city, that he had come out to his eldest brother just at the beginning of the year. Dean didn’t want the night to end. Even though he knew he was going to be punished within an inch of his life and Cas knew he was late for work, they lingered on their goodbye.

            “Thank you, Dean. It was really nice being able to talk with someone.” He laced their fingers together in front of them and Dean’s breath hitched at the gentle contact.

            “Any time, Cas. And thank you too. I –.” Dean took a breath and stepped forward, pulling Cas into a hug. “I’ll never forget this.” He pushed the words out quickly before he was able to bury them with embarrassment.

            “Will you ever come back? Do you think?” Cas’ warm breath tickled Dean’s red ear. Dean hoped with all his heart that he’d be able to come back.

            “Cas. I’ll try, but –.” He pressed his lips gently to Dean’s cheek with soft pressure, stopping any thought’s in Dean’s mind. They were warm and wet and a little chapped. Heat radiated out from the spot, making Dean’s heart jump against his ribcage.

            “I’ll be here, then.” Dean cupped his hand to the spot where Cas had kissed him and pulled him into another hug. Cas’ hands slid down to Dean’s hips and rubbed absently up and down his waist. His lips pressed hot kisses across Dean’s cheeks, as Dean closed his eyes and rolled his head back. His breath hitched as lips pushed against his Adam’s apple. He shivered and pulled Cas closer, needing his warmth. Their eyes met and Dean felt like he needed to say something, anything.

            “Cas --,” The knock on the door made Dean and Cas jump away from each other like shrapnel, flushed pink and breathing heavily.

            “Castiel! Wake the fuck up! This is getting old, bro.” Dean guessed, from the stories Cas told him, that it was Gabriel, the middle child. There was another loud pound on the door and Dean had one foot out the window, in case he decided to break down the door. “If you don’t wake up in three minutes, I’m gonna make Michael fire you or cut your pay. Oh, or worse, I’m gonna make it your job to clean out the fryer every day for the rest of your life!”

            “Bye Cas.” Dean pressed a kiss to his stubbly cheek and lowered himself out of the window easily as Cas whispered a “good bye Dean.”  


	3. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coming full circle, Dean reunites with Cas and finds the piece that he was missing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smutty-ish chapter. They are of age, if that's not evident in the text.

            “Where are you going?” Dean cringed silently and stopped mid-step to look back at a gangly, half asleep Sammy. In the bed next to Sam’s, John snored loudly in a whiskey soaked slumber and Dean heaved a sigh.

            “Nowhere, Sammy. Go back to sleep.” Dean turned toward the door, intent on making it to Cas’ house early. He heard Sam shuffling in his bed loudly behind him, setting his nerves on edge.  

            “I wanna come.” Dean cringed again at Sam’s loudness and whipped around with a finger across his lips. He let his eyes dart toward John’s sleeping form.

            “Seriously, Sammy. Be quiet and go back to sleep.” He held a hand out at Sammy in an attempt to keep him in his bed. He didn’t need Sammy’s clumsy, teenaged footfalls waking up John. He slunk back to their shared bed and pulled the blankets over Sam’s chest while Sammy’s bitch face glared at him callously.

            “Why can’t I come?” His eyes searched Dean’s sadly. He did it so well, the puppy dog eyes, but Dean could see the vindictive suspicion behind his stare.  “Come on, Dean. I wanna see where you’re going.” Dean pushed a hand against his own face harshly with a groan.

            “Sammy, you don’t want to come with me unless you want to watch me making out with someone.” Dean wiggled his eyebrows at his little brother and smirked at the disgusted face he made.

            “Ew.” Sammy’s nose scrunched up, but he sat up when he realized what that meant. “Wait, so you do have a girlfriend.” His eyes lit up and Dean put a hand on his chest, shushing him in an attempt to calm his little brother. He ventured another look at John’s bed and relaxed when John turned back over, burring his face into his pillow.

            “Can you just go to bed and keep this a secret?” Sam’s eyes had large black bags under them and Dean could see that he had lost all his fight. He yawned quietly and nodded.

            “Fine, but you have to tell me about her in the morning.” Dean pushed the covers under Sam’s shoulders, hoping to trap his wiggling arms, and shoved his head down onto the pillow. Ignoring the wrong pronoun, dean rose from his squatting position next to the bed and shoved Sam’s shoulder.  

            “Deal, now go to bed.”

            Dean rapped his knuckles quietly against Cas’ window. His hands shook with nerves as they always did when he snuck into Cas’ room. He’d only been to the Angel’s Wing a grand total of six times, but it never seemed to change. He and Cas would meet at night and talk until the sun came over the horizon, but they would never do anything past hand holding. One time they laid on Cas’ bed, clinging to the other, and talked till morning while playing idly with their entwined fingers. The memory made Dean’s heart do flips whenever it came to him.

             Once, when he was seventeen, Dean had tried to kiss Cas, but Cas pushed him away. It hurt, but Cas explained to him that he didn’t want to take advantage of him. That it wasn’t right for a nineteen-year-old to kiss someone who just turned seventeen. Dean cursed their age gap and the fact that his dad chose February to hunt in the area, but accepted Cas’ wishes.

            Dean’s eighteenth birthday came and went and John didn’t have any cases anywhere near the West coast. Dean felt the itch under his skin ever since the clock hit twelve on January twenty-third. He craved Cas’ touch, kiss and company. In the time away from Cas he tried to rid himself of the hollow loneliness that plagued him constantly. He slept with any and every girl that caught his fancy. Still, all the girls that he’d ever slept with couldn’t scratch that itch that sat constantly under Dean’s skin. He wondered if being with a man would be any different, but never tried, either too scared to initiate an encounter, or too into the idea that Cas’ would be his first. He was hooked on the man and he knew it, but avoided the word “love” like the plague when he thought of Cas’ black hair and blue eyes.

            A light switched on and Dean watched breathlessly as a shirtless Cas bolted the lock on his door with a familiar click. Dean’s skin prickled as he slid the window open.

            “Hello Dean.” Cas’ voice had gotten impossibly deeper since Dean had saw him last and, he noticed with a blush, his muscles had filled out too. He was less of a scrawny boy now and more of a man with well-toned lean muscles. Dean had noticed that his scruff had grown in, too, just as dark as the hair on his head.

            “Hey Cas.” Dean slipped in the window with ease and smiled, noticing the new décor of Cas’ room, still sporting the large winged angel poster. “I like what you did with the place.” He left out “new bed “question, trying to avoid any awkwardness that the thought would bring up.

            “Thanks.” He blushed and looked at the floor, crossing his arms over his bare chest. “I thought that was you in the diner, but I couldn’t be sure.” He looked away from Dean’s eyes. “You looked so – how is it even possible that you’ve gotten even more gorgeous since I last saw you?”

            Dean blushed and ducked his head, feeling overrated. “Yeah right. Speak for yourself. You’re ripped.”

            Cas blushed deeper but he pushed himself onto the edge of the bed and curled his legs in front of himself, waiting for Dean to follow suit. They sat closely, facing each other, fingers lacing together as they caught up again.

            “Really?” Dean laughed quietly as he trailed his fingers up and down Cas’ pajama-covered calf, absentmindedly.

            “Yeah. Gabriel found out that Anna was taking the SATs and he burst into tears, right there in the middle of the diner.” He laughed and smiled so wide that his nose crinkled. “Like actual tears. He said something about college being the only thing that was worth giving our baby sister. Said he’d do anything to give Anna a better future. I believe him, I would too.”

            Dean nodded, understanding Gabriel’s reaction. “I get it. I’d do the same thing for Sammy, in a heartbeat. Give anything in my power to give him a better future.” He thought about the hyper, freakishly tall boy that wanted to be a lawyer or a theologian, whatever that was, and what he wouldn’t do to give him that. Dean looked down at his hand, fingers intertwined with Cas’. He blushed, not comfortable with talking about how devoted he was to Sammy. He preferred being thought of as the family fuck up while Sam was praised for his accomplishments. Cas cut Dean’s thoughts short when his hand slid up against his cheek.

            “You’d do that for Sam, put him through college, even if it meant the end of your family business?” Dean licked his lips and swallowed as he stared into Cas’ serious eyes.

            “Course,” He cleared his throat. “I love the kid.” Dean’s eyes shot to Cas’ mouth as it pulled into a soft smile, then back up to his eyes.

            “Dean,” He looked down, letting his thumb brush the top of Dean’s cheek bone. “you’re an amazing man.” His smile was gentle and Dean couldn’t help but melt under his touch.

            Dean let out a shaky breath, then leaned forward pressing his lips to Cas’ cheek bone. He pulled back, then placed another kiss lower, giving Cas time to veto his advances. Then, as he leaned in to push another kiss against the bristles of his jaw, Cas turned his face to catch Dean’s lips with his own.

            Electric didn’t even begin to describe the feeling of Cas’ plump, cracked lips on Dean’s. He ventured to think that the feeling was sensational and even then Dean knew that was the understatement of the millennium.

            At first, their kiss was closed lipped. With the give and take of chaste kisses, Cas parted his lips, allowing for Dean’s lips to slot tightly with his. The kiss became heated and rushed as Dean slid toward Cas, pinning him to the wall at the top of the bed. Quiet moans escaped between their lips as their hands trailed across each other’s torsos. Dean’s mind was blank, except for the heat of Cas’ lips on his and his skin under his fingertips. They broke apart for air, but kept forgetting to breathe properly, as their lips met again and again.

            Dean’s hands trailed up around Cas’ jaw, before running back down his shoulders and across to his nipples. He pinched and tweaked them, causing Cas’ lips to part and allowing Dean to deepen the kiss.

            “Been practicing?” Cas grunted into Dean’s mouth, his voice wrecked and ragged. Dean pulled at Cas’ bottom lip with his teeth and nodded with an affirmative “mhm.”

            He broke away from Dean’s mouth and bit down on his neck, earning a quiet gasp from Dean, as he tried an experimental grind into Cas’ hardened member. Cas rewarded him with a beautiful noise that made his mouth water.

            “How many?” Cas’ breath was hot against dean’s neck, his voice laced with desperation. Dean ground down again and Cas bit harder into the crook of Dean’s neck.

            “Lots. They—aw fuck, Cas – don’t compare.” Dean’s hands slid up his bare chest and rested on either side of his face. He could feel the tremble of his beautifully sculpted jaw below his fingers and it split his heart in two.

            “Cas.” Dean’s eyes peered deep into the beautiful blue depths of his eyes. His thoughts were shut down as Cas pulled the hem of his shirt over his head, quickly. His hands gripped Dean’s waist as he flipped Dean backwards, landing over top of him, his knees between Dean’s legs. Every trace of sadness was washed away with burning passion that Dean guessed was jealousy.

            “Been practicing too, Dean.” He squirmed under Cas’ touch as he placed kisses and love bites down Dean’s chest and nipples, then farther down. Cas growled and bit down on Dean’s hip. “Only three.” Dean’s breath hitched and he ignored his own jealousy as Cas sucked a hickey into his hip bone, making him buck his hips up. “Never as good as this.”

            “Fuck, Cas.” Dean’s hands scrambled and reached for skin as Cas pushed Dean’s jeans and boxers from his hips. His dick twitched off his stomach as the cold air hit his sensitive flesh. Cas’ lips pressed warm kisses into the crook between Dean’s leg and the base of his cock, making him grab and pull at messy tufts of black hair.

            “God, Dean. So fucking beautiful.” Cas bit a little too hard on Dean’s thigh; forcing a squeak from Dean’s throat.

            “Cas, please.” Cas’ face came up over Dean’s and he pressed a rough kiss to his lips.

            “Shh, you gotta be quiet, babe.” Dean nodded breathless and unable to speak. Cas winked as he slipped down to his spot between Dean’s legs again.

            Dean wished he could yell out, scream as he writhed below Cas’ talented mouth. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, his fingers pulling at Cas’ black hair as he toed the edge of oblivion. He came off of Dean’s dick with a pop, hand still pumping him loosely. Then, without warning, Cas brushed a finger against Dean’s hole, both surprising him and pushing him over the edge. He wasn’t quiet, then, crying out a little louder than he intended and splashing white all over his chest. Cas’ mouth smashed over Dean’s and his tongue shot into Dean’s mouth, choking off the last of the loud moans that Dean had in him.

            “Mmm, Cas. Can you – Can we?” Dean had no idea why he was asking for Cas to fuck him because he’d never had anything near anal sex before. Sure, he’d pushed a finger in his ass once or twice in the shower when he was jacking it, but he knew that wasn’t even close to the stretch that he’d experience.             He was nervous, but was sure he didn’t want anything more in his life.

            Cas’ eyes were bright blue and flooded with lust. “Fuck, Dean. I wish.” He said breathlessly with pink cheeks. He pushed a kiss to Dean’s jaw, trailing kisses down his neck. “Can’t though. I’m late for work.”

            A quick glance at the clock told Dean that it was nearly seven in the morning. Gripping Cas’ hard dick, he began to stroke and suck dark spots into his chest. “How late?”

            Cas’ breath hitched as he pushed forward into Dean’s hand. “Not – ah –  late enough.”

            Dean bit his neck and flipped them over until he rested over Cas’ legs. Still keeping rhythm with his hand, dean bit at Cas’ nipples, making him huff and squirm, bucking his hips into Dean’s hand.  “But really Cas. How late are you?” Dean whispered into his ear and sucked on his ear lobe.

            “Ah, fuck.” He huffed and caught Dean’s lips with his own, tongue launching into his mouth quickly. Dean swallowed a loud moan as Cas came all over their chests. Between huffs Dean pressed kisses to his lips, stroking lazily on his spent cock.

“Uh, to answer your question.” Cas licked his lips and smiled, chest heaving in deep breaths. “Only an hour late.”

            Dean was about to lecture him, but as if on que, a loud knock pounded on the door.

            “Little brother! You’re late for work … again!” There was a chuckle on the other side of the door before the voice, whom Dean assumed belonged Gabriel spoke again. “Take a shower first. If I smell even a hint of sex on you I’m going to --.”

            “Gabe! Shut the fuck up.” Cas pushed his hand over his eyes and Dean blushed, clinging to his side. His eyes were as big as saucers as he patted the bed behind him, looking for his clothes.

            “Yeah, yeah. If you’re friend in there wants breakfast he’s welcome to eat with us. Oh and his little brother’s looking for him.”

            Dean groaned and dropped his head against Cas’ chest. “Damn it, Sammy.”


	4. Love, Pie and a ...Sequel?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of my little Destiel. Give me feedback and requests! Thanks for reading.

          The Impala rolled into the dusty parking lot of the Angel’s Wing Diner and Dean’s heart fluttered as he put his baby in park. Since his nineteenth birthday, Dean had been back to the Angel’s Wing a total of four hundred and sixty times, and Cas had been to his apartment, in the center of the city, more times than that. They practically lived together, except for the times Dean went hunting, but walking to the diner with the small velvet box in his pocket, it felt like the first time Dean had slipped into Cas’ window.

           As Dean strode toward the diner, he remembered the time he’d told his dad about Cas. He chuckled recalling John’s response, feeling more than a little stupid that he didn’t account for his dad’s hunting abilities.

           “Dean I know. You practically cried the first time I bypassed the damn exit and every night we were there, you’d sneak out.” He held up a hand to Dean’s surprised look. “Son, I can hunt a damned wendigo and live, you don’t think I know when my teenager is sneaking out of the same room I’m sleeping in?”

           Four years and twelve thousand or so miles later, Dean pushed through the door of the Angel’s Wing Diner, a bell chiming above his head. With a quick wave to Gabe taking orders at a booth, Dean pushed through the double doors that led to the kitchen. He watched Cas’ strong back muscles flex while he rolled out some pie dough in front of him. He smiled and watched the blue-eyed brunette work hard on his specialty. Dean took pride in Cas’ accomplishments and was happy that he was at least a part of the reason their diner had picked up better business.

           A few years before, Cas took to heart Dean’s love of pie and set out to find the best recipes that he could get his hands on. Not able to find any recipes that held up to Dean’s specialized taste, he ended up making most of the recipes himself and borrowed one for strawberry rhubarb from his elderly neighbors. After a few attempts and test runs on a very willing boyfriend, The Angel’s Wing Diner became famous for its pie and was featured in food shows and magazines. Dean remembered his chest swelling with pride as Cas stood with the loud mouthed TV chef, talking passionately about his apple pie filling.

           Dean stood a moment, admiring the beautiful curve of Cas’ shoulders, arch of his back and the perk of his ass. Sighing contently, he imagined he’d never get over how beautiful the man was and stepped closer to him.

           Dean’s arms snaked around Cas’ waist and he squeezed, chuckling as Cas let out a surprised gasp.

           “Hey, babe.” Cas turned in Dean’s arms, resting his flour covered hands on his shoulders. His eyes were bright as always and his smile melted Dean’s heart.

           With another chuckle, Dean brushed some flour off of Cas’ nose and cheekbone. “You been doing some weird science in here?” Cas smirked and rolled his perfect eyes.

           “No, no human-sized living Barbie dolls here.” He smiled and pulled Dean into a kiss. “Just testing out some new recipes.”

           Dean’s mouth watered as Cas gestured to three large pies cooling on a side table and he pressed another kiss to Cas’ lips.

           “Did I ever tell you how sexy that is?” Dean caught another deep kiss.

           “Mmm, pie making? Or the thing I just did with my tongue?”

           “Both.” Dean pulled Cas into another kiss, nipping at his lips and sucking on his tongue, attempting to coax out a moan. He knew Gabriel had set up some rule against making out in the kitchen, but he didn’t care as Cas’ tongue brushed over his encouragingly. They leaned against the counter, pie crust long forgotten as hey made out eagerly.

           A loud cough pulled them from their session, making them jump away from each other. Gabriel stood in the doorway with a winning smirk on his face.  “Cassie! You know the rules! Now you’ve got fryer duty for a week.” Gabriel snapped his fingers and pointed at his little brother, grinning widely. Cas groaned and rolled his eyes. He pulled out a clip board and started scribbling on it in an attempt to make himself look busy.  

           Gabriel turned and smirked at Dean. “Hey hot stuff. Not using the windows anymore?” Dean rolled his eyes; he got tired of that joke years ago. “Well, since you’ve obviously derailed any progress that Cas was making on his pwecious wittle pies, I guess that means it’s break time.”

           “What?” Cas looked up from the list he was making. “I already took my –.”

           “Get out of here, Betty Cocker. I don’t want you two making out on top of my food. It’s a health hazard. In fact, I’m giving you the rest of the day off. The patrons will thank me, besides Benny’s starting in a few minutes.” He winked and whispered. “Cajun night.” With a chuckle, he made a shoo gesture with his hands and Cas spun on his heel, not needing to be told twice.

           With Cas’ back turned to them, Gabe winked at Dean and mouthed a “good luck,” pointing to his ring finger.  

* * *

 

           Dean’s eyes rolled into the back of his head and he let a pornographic moan escape his lips. He swallowed and savored the flavor as the warm goo slid down his throat. “Oh, fuck, Cas. ‘s so good.”

           He was nearly out of breath as he swiped his finger through the white, sticky mess and sucked it off his finger. Cas’ eyes followed every one of his moves, wide and intensely focused. He bit his lip as he studied Dean’s reactions. Dean let out another moan and he let his head roll back before he went in for another helping. His mouth slid around the hot, sticky mess and he gripped his leg harshly with his free hand.

           “Mmm fuck.” Dean groaned with his mouth full, his eyes closing tightly.

           “You know this is a family restaurant right?” Dean’s eyes popped open, mind pulled away from his business. Gabriel’s voice was flat and laced with bitchiness. His arms were crossed over his chest and his face was in a disgusted twist.

           “You’re closed.” His words came out muffled around another large bite of pie.

           “Oh, gross. Don’t talk with your mouth full.”

           “And if you didn’t want me to moan, then you shouldn’t have put ice cream on top of the pie.” With a wink at Cas, he took a bite and moaned again, rolling his head back.

           “So?” Cas wrung his fingers as he waited for Dean’s verdict.

           “This deserves an award – a reward – a sexy reward. A very kinky, sexy reward. I’m thinking pink, lacy undies, maybe a sweet little matching teddy.” Dean smirked at Cas’ unamused face.

           “Dean.” Cas warned.

           “Cas I think you might have to stop selling regular food and switch to only pie if you serve this. Remember that article in the paper?” Cas nodded. “There are going to be more where that came from and most of them are going to be featured in the category of Pleasurable Pie Erotica.” Dean chuckled again as a smirk crossed Cas’ lips.

           “Okay, how about a guided critique.” Cas slid the clipboard next to Dean’s arm from the table. “Crust?”

           Dean pulled off the edge of the crust and bit into it. “Crumble, ten. Flavor, Ten. Color, mmm, nine.” Cas scribbled something on the clip board.

           “Too light or too dark?”

           “Dark.” He scribbled again.

           “Easy fix, next.”

           “Smell, uh, fucking a thousand.” Dean smirked at him and Cas rolled his eyes.

           “Please stay on a one to ten scale.”

           “Fine, a solid ten.” He took another bite and took a deep breath through his nose.

           Gabriel stood with his arms crossed, watching Cas check off boxes and Dean watched happily as Cas’ ring glinted in the sun while he wrote.

           “Well, kiddo. I think we might have to move this one from the prototype phase to the testing phase.” Gabe patted Cas’ shoulder. “We’re gonna have to get some more people to try it out. Hey, Dean. Maybe we can get that hunky brother of yours to try some.”  Gabe smirked and wiggled his eyebrows. “I wonder what kind of noises he’ll make. Maybe I should put extra ice cream on his.” Gabriel placed a finger on his chin and stared into space, deep in thought.

           “Oh, not again.” Cas sighed.  

           Dean glared at Gabe over his plate. “For the last time, Romeo. He’s too young for you and the dude doesn’t like guys.”

           “Yeah whatever Tybalt. That’s not the tune he was playing last Christmas when he kissed me.” He winked at Dean.

           “Yeah right, some douchebag put over fifty sprigs of mistletoe everywhere. It was impossible to walk through the house without having to kiss someone.” Dean shot him a knowing look.

           “Hey I take what I can get.” With a shrug, Gabriel sauntered his way back to the kitchen. He looked back over his shoulder with a hand on the swinging doors. “Maybe next time he’ll make out with me under some mistletoe instead of the back seat of the Impala.”

           “Wait, what?” Dean’s face shot up from his pie.

           “Gabriel!” Cas’ admonished from his place behind Dean.

           Gabriel smiled brightly and ducked out through the swinging doors quickly.

           “Son of a –.” Dean tried scrambling out of the booth, but his legs tangled and he fell sideways across the aisle with a thud. The sound of Gabe’s car roared to life outside the diner as Dean untangled his legs, reaching for Cas’ leg to help him up.

           Dean growled with anger when he found his footing and looked out the window, a cloud of dust billowing from the back parking lot. He was definitely going to give Sammy a call.


End file.
